Twenty-Three
Roman
Galen guidesme through the ballroom; his hand on the small of my back like I’m a prize he fears to lose.
Once we’ve made it through the crowded room, his hand slips away leaving the spot cold. He hasn’t said a word, and neither have I. My head dizzies from the alcohol and more so from the news of the prisoners.
Not to mention Sorin.
“Shall we retire?” Galen’s voice is flat. Unamused. Like he’s rehearsing a line not speaking to his lover. He doesn’t turn to me as he speaks, his boots continuing their clacking against the stone floor. The hallway to our chambers is never ending tonight. When I don’t answer he glances over his shoulder. “Ro? Are you all right?”
A lantern on the wall flickers from the breeze of his abrupt stop.
“That man,” I say, steadying myself against the wall. “That wasn’t Evren of the Jade Guild, was it? It was Sorin. That’s why you couldn’t stop staring at him.” Galen’s face doesn’t flinch, but the hand that was once on my back flexes.
“Enough.” Galen steps forward, caging me against the wall. “Your obsession with the Dyrsjel and Sorin has gone too far. I should have never told you about him.”
“Wh—”
“Do you think I don’t know about your little visits, Ro?”
I push off the wall and brush him aside. “What I do with my prisoners is my choice.” Guilt swirls in my stomach and a sharp pain forms behind my right eye, making me squint.
I really shouldn’t drink.
Galen laughs, a sound I often crave yet so rarely hear. But this time it has my skin crawling. When I turn, our noses nearly brush. He smiles.
He runs a thumb across my cheek. Leaning forward, his lips brush mine. “You’re keeping something from me.”
I close my eyes to steady myself, wishing I was still propped against the wall. “Just like you’re keeping things from me,” I snap. “I heard you whispering to my guards the other night. Telling them to keep an eye on me.” His pupils flare, a smirk toying on the corners of his mouth.
“My little bird, always so afraid to fly. So afraid to accept that he has wings to do with as he pleases.” His breath is hot and sweet, like honey mead. “Is it the height you fear?” He kisses my lips again. “Or the freedom?”
My stomach twists into knots.
For most of my life I lived under my father’s dictation. I did what he asked because when I didn’t, there were consequences. Severe, brutal, unimaginable consequences. Galen’s father wasn’t much different and so we understood each other.
We saw each other.
And when my father died, I thought myselffree. I was rid of the burden of constant perfection or at least the illusion of it. Rid of the abuse and the pain and the never-ending fear that came along with his company.
It was Galen who took that burden from me. Whofreedme.
And I should owe him eternally. Should love him wholeheartedly.
But sometimes, even if I hate myself for the thought, I wonder if removing one monster from my life, merely replaced him with another.
“I have promised you everything, Ro. Freedom from your father, power over an entire country. And yet, every chance you’ve gotten the last month, you’ve fought me.” He cocks his head to the side, studying me. My lungs burn and breathing staggers when he runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “So, tell me what it is I need to do for us to go back to the way we were.”
I open my mouth but nothing comes out. His gentle touches and sweet scent dizzy my head further.
“Forgive me,” he says, “whatever has gotten under your skin the last few weeks, let me mend it. Let me remind you that we do this as a team, or not at all. I’m sorry, is that what you want to hear?”
I lean in close, my lips brushing against his. “Beg me,” I say. His brows dart up as I recline away from him. “Beg me for it.” His eyes dart to my lips, then back at me. “For my forgiveness, for you sneaking around. Excluding me. Not trustingmeto be a part of your plans.” His throat works hard to swallow, his eyes still glued to mine. “Beg.”
“I already told you I’m sorry.”
I fist his shirt in my hands, pulling him closer. “I know, I heard you the first time, but I want to hear it again. This time from your knees.”
